


Rift

by DoctorBilly



Series: Chimæra [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Billyverse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2549990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBilly/pseuds/DoctorBilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story starts two months after Billy left Marrakech alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finders Keepers

August 10th 2019, Helsinki

 

It has been fifteen degrees during the day, gradually dropping to eleven as daylight fades. Chilly enough, this far north, for a coat, and a knitted hat to keep the ears warm.

Dr Bill H Wiggins shuts down his computer and nods goodnight to the researcher who has been kind enough to let him share her office and a corner of her desk. Bill is not here officially, but his colleagues are happy to give him desk space, lab space and assistance, in exchange for their names on the first page of the paper he is engaged in writing.

Bill walks toward the front doors of the university building, heading for the car park and a short walk to his digs. A security guard stops him before he reaches the doors.

"There is a policeman outside waiting for the English doctor. If you would like to avoid him, you can use the side entrance, and I will say I have not seen you…"

"Am I the only English one here?"

"No, but he described your eyes. He is looking for you."

"Is he Finnish police?"

"No. Russki".

Billy smiles, and leaves the building via the front door. Outside, in full uniform, leaning against the wall smoking a Sobranie, is a Major of the Russian Полиция.

"Nice coat."

"Da."

"Nice everything…"

Arkady Yegorov laughs.

"You like uniforms, Billi?"

"I think you might have uncovered a kink I didn't know I had."

Billy looks him up and down, taking in the great-coat, the gold stars on the shoulder tabs, the red hatband, the narrow trousers tucked into highly-polished black leather knee boots. Arkady laughs again.

"Are you giving me a once over?"

Billy smiles. " _The_ once over."

"And you like what you see. Good. I told you I would come and find you."

"I thought it might have been a bit sooner…"

"It was not as straightforward a search as it could have been."

"Is it all over, then? Can I go home?"

"Da. You can. If you wish it."

"Yeah. I'll have to. I need to finish something here first though."

*********

Arkady and Billy walk slowly through the streets to the block of flats where Billy has the use of student accommodation, if he needs it, until term starts in October.

"How long will it take for you to finish what you have to do?"

"Two or three more weeks. Did Mycroft send you after me?"

"No. I came because I wanted to. I am no longer your bodyguard, Billi."

"Is that because I did a runner? I'm sorry, Kady. I didn't mean to get you into trouble. Who's my minder now?"

"I do not know. Why did you not go to Gibralter? Where _did_ you go?"

"Sherlock left me a note. I was supposed to keep everything a secret from Mycroft. I think he suspected one of Mycroft's people was the bad guy."

"Ah. This makes sense. And of course, you did not trust me enough to confide in me."

"Don't. You're the one who didn't give me a phone number… _What_?"

"I did. It was programmed into your phone. Into Sasha's phone. You did not answer when I called."

*********

"Tea, coffee, or beer. I haven't got anything stronger."

"Beer."

Billy opens two bottles, hands one over. He searches through the piles of stuff on his desk, finds the blue Nokia phone and throws it over his shoulder. Arkady catches it one-handed and flips it open.

"Who is Frederick Denton?"

"Me, obviously. Since June. Note the conspicuous lack of your phone number. You never told me it. I would have memorised it."

"Da. I know. It has been deleted and your own number changed. Sherlock provided you with the new identity?"

"Yeah. Everything I needed. And he told me Mycroft didn't know about it. I read that as an instruction to keep my head down."

"There was an informant among Mycroft's team of assistants."

Arkady looks out of the window. It is dark outside. Billy walks across to stand beside him, looking at their reflections in the glass.

"I thought I might see the Northern Lights…"

"The aurora? There is too much light pollution in the city. You have never seen it? A pity. It is beautiful."

"You've seen it? In Siberia?"

"Many times."

"And tigers? Have you seen tigers?"

"Only once. When I was a child. Siberian tigers are _very_ rare."

"But still. There _are_ Siberian tigers…"

"Da. There are."

"Nothing wilder than my gran's moggy where I come from."

Arkady looks into Billy's reflection's eyes.

"Why do you wear your hat indoors?"

"Keeps my head warm." Billy takes the woollen cap off. "Why are you back in uniform?"

"People in Finland do not argue very much with the Politsiya. The uniform is a tool."

"You're not going back to Siberia to be a copper then?"

"It is not my plan."

Billy lowers his lashes and looks through them at Arkady. It is blatant flirtation, and it works. Arkady catches his breath and flushes. Billy smiles, blushing a little himself.

"What is your plan then?"

"First, to find you. That was the most important thing. Where did you go when you left Marrakech?"

"Portugal. Then Northern Spain, France, Germany, Sweden. Then here. I didn't come straight here. I dodged about a bit, like you did when we were on the run from Switzerland. I stayed in youth hostels mostly. I thought people would be less likely to look for me somewhere they knew I hated. "

"You did well. I could not find you. I was looking for Sasha, of course, with his red hair. I was not looking for Frederick, with his fuzzy head, like a peach…"

"How did you find me then?"

"I remembered you had filled notebooks with mathematics. I know you are not a mathematician, so it could not be _new_ mathematics. It had to be older, something you had seen and that intrigued you. I wondered if it was Kristof's. I knew he had begun his research here in Helsinki. I ' _took a punt_ ' as Grisha says."

"Have you seen him?"

"Grisha? Da. But I do not want to talk about him. He is busy, with his work at New Scotland Yard."

"All right. I did know _his_ number. I texted him. He never answered me."

"I am sorry to hear it."

"Are you?"

"In that it would help you to know where you stand. For myself, if it means he is stepping aside, I am glad."

Billy stands quietly, looking out at the city.

"I need a couple more weeks, I think. To finish off this bit of work. Then I'll go back to London. I miss my boat. Miss the market…"

"I would like to see your boat."

"Come to London with me."

"In Marrakech, you asked if I would sleep with you…"

"Yeah. You said no."

Arkady closes his eyes, remembering.

"I did. Would you ask again?"

"No."

Arkady squeezes his eyelids together. "Never?"

"Not going to give you the chance to slap me down again."

"I would not. I want to share your bed, Billi."

"You've shared a bed with me. And you never touched me. You used to turn your back to make _sure_ you didn't touch me."

"There were reasons. I was your bodyguard. There is a line which should not be crossed. No matter how badly I wanted to cross it."

"Did you? Want to cross it?"

"Da. Of course."

"When did you know you wanted to?" Billy whispers, voice trembling. "When?"

Arkady crosses to him and wraps his arms around him.

"In the snow, in Switzerland, there was a man. So young, so thin, in a foolish lacy undershirt. He looked at me through his lashes. His eyes sparkled, and my heart knew that it would be _this_ one, _this_ man." Arkady draws in a ragged, shuddery breath. "And then I found out too soon who you were, and I knew you were _his_." He lets go of Billy and starts to turn away. "When Mycroft asked me to be your handler, I should have said no."

"I really liked you. All blond in that fur coat. All full of yourself." Billy smiles and turns to Arkady. "I like you more now. I like the Arkasha who taught me how to look after myself, but still sings lullabies…"

"You liked Bayushki-Bayu?"

"I listened to it every night."

*********

Billy holds tight to Arkady's arms, where they are wrapped around his waist.

"You were leaning against the wall being Mr Nonchalant. You've been in Helsinki long enough to be sure I was at the university. Why'd you pick today to show up? Why not yesterday, or tomorrow?"

"It is your birthday."

"Yeah. Are you my present?"

Arkady laughs.

"If you like. But I brought you a coat, to replace the one I made you leave in Barcelona."

"Your police coat? Are you sure?"

"Da. I no longer need it. This is the last time I will wear this uniform."

"I didn't expect you to show up today. I haven't got anything for you."

"It is enough to know you are pleased to see me."

"No, it's not. It's weird us both having the same birthday, isn't it?"

"I did not know that you knew…"

"I've learned to keep my eyes and ears open. Forty's a big one…"

"Not so much bigger than thirty two."

"Yeah. But still. I should have something significant for you…"

*********

Arkady nuzzles the back of Billy's head and hums.

"Like a peach. Fuzzy."

"Shut up. I might keep it like this."

"It would be your choice."

"I'm glad you let your blond grow back in. I really like you blond."

"I will stay blond for you. Unless I have to go in disguise again."

He runs his hand over Billy's shoulder and down his back. It is the first time he has seen all of Billy's tattoo.

"Will you get the damage repaired?"

"Mm. Probably. Greg used to tell me not to mind the scar."

"If you mind it, you mind it. If you want to cover it, then cover it. It is your body."

"You haven't got any marks. No tattoos, no piercings, no scars."

"I am unremarkable…"

"That is so not true."

Arkady chuckles, then swears energetically in Russian as his phone rings.

*********

"Da. Da, Mycroft. Speak to him yourself."

Arkady passes Billy his phone.

"Hello Mycroft. Timing could have been better."

_"Timing? Oh, you and Major Yegorov? Please excuse me…"_

"What do you want, Mycroft?"

_"To wish you both a happy birthday?"_

"Don't insult my intelligence. Did he tell you he'd tracked me down?"

_"No. But when I learned he was in Helsinki I made the obvious connection to Dr Leppälä's research."_

"I need a bit more time, Mycroft. I don't want to leave this unfinished. And it'd be nice if Arkasha could stay…"

_"He is officially between assignments at present. If he wants to stay, he can. Can you tell me what you are working on, Bill?"_

"Yeah. I had a lot of time to think in Marrakech, and I started reviewing Kristof's work on the X chromosome problem. I had to do it mentally, but I was fairly sure I hadn't forgotten anything. I thought I'd spotted a mistake in Kristof's maths. It might have been a typo, or a translation error, or a computational error. I came here to check it out."

_"Did you find anything?"_

"Yeah. It was a tiny error, early on, but it got compounded into something pretty big. We've been correcting the maths for the last month, and using the new results to underpin a new set of lab tests. It looks encouraging."

_"Do you mean that there could be a solution to the X-chromosome problem?"_

"It's possible. No guarantees, of course. Mycroft, I want to republish Kristof's paper, with posthumous amendments. There are a couple of people here who need crediting as well. Can you use your influence to make sure that happens?"

_"Yes. Send it to me when it is complete, and I will make sure it is published. Thank you for doing this, Bill. It may revive hope…"_

"There's no guarantees, Mycroft. Wait for the full trials before you get your hopes up. I recommend that you use Berit Sundqvist as your lead researcher, if you want to fund another project. She's good, and familiar wth the existing work."

_"You do not plan to continue it yourself?"_

"No. It's not my area really. I just wanted to make sure Kristof's reputation didn't suffer. And I've got something else I'm thinking of doing."

_"Will you come back to London, Bill?"_

"Yeah. In about three weeks. It would be nice if someone could get my sheepskin cleaned and stock my fridge…"

_"Consider it done."_


	2. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy's last night in Finland

Billy leans back against the bonnet of the car.

"It's brilliant…"

Billy's head is tipped far back. The aurora borealis hangs in the night sky above him. It is breathtakingly beautiful. Arkady leans on the car bonnet beside Billy, turned slightly towards him, watching him watching the aurora.

"I cannot give you tigers, but I am glad I was able to show you this, at least."

He leans across, nuzzling into the gap between Billy's collar and his woolly hat. Billy smiles and wraps his arms around him.

"Thanks, Arkasha."

"You are welcome. And the sky has cooperated. It does not always happen."

Billy sighs.

"It's wonderful. I'll never forget this." He smiles. "And I'll never forget you were with me."

Arkady nips the lobe of Billy's ear, where it peeks out from under the hat.

"You are starting to get cold."

"Yeah. Let's go back to Helsinki and have dinner. Something Finnish, seeing as it's our last night here. "

"Is there anywhere in particular you like?"

"Yeah. I like the FishMarket, down near the harbour." 

"We go there, then."

 

 

*********

 

Billy sighs with satisfaction. The table is littered with fragments of crustacean shell, from the crayfish which are the restaurant's early Autumn special. They have washed the shellfish down with beer, and Billy has just finished a side dish of marinated beetroot. Arkady orders yoghourt cake with liquorice sorbet.

"Liquorice sorbet? Are you sure?"

"Da. It is a speciality."

When the sorbet comes, Billy is surprised.

"I thought it would be black."

"You are thinking of sweet liquorice, the candy. This is made from natural liquorice root. Used as a flavouring. Try it."

Billy decides he likes liquorice sorbet. They share the cake, forks clashing, and split the bill down the middle. Arkady leaves the car where it is parked, and they walk to Billy's digs for the last time.

 

*********

 

"Will we be the same in London?"

"I don't know, Arkasha. I hope so. But…"

Arkady lies on his back, his arm around Billy's waist.

"But he will be there. And he has not spoken to you yet."

"Yeah. I don't know how I'll react to seeing him."

"You do not have to rush to see him. Take your time. Get used to the city again. Help me learn to live on a boat."

"You definitely want to live with me, then?"

"Da. Of course. You are having second thoughts…"

"I'm not, Arkasha. Not really."

"Good."

Arkady smiles into the darkness. He and Billy have been together as lovers for only three weeks, but he knows he never wants to lose this relationship, this intimacy. He turns toward Billy a little more, wrapping both arms around him, getting as much skin-to-skin contact as he can.

Arkady is good in bed, generous in foreplay and loving in the afterglow. His desire to hold Billy tight for hours is as strong as his desire to make love to, with him. Billy snuggles in close. He loves to be held, to be cuddled.

"If they ever ask you to be my minder again, you have to say no."

"They will not ask. If a handler has been compromised, he, or she, is stood down. If a handler has a relationship with an ex-charge, they remove themselves from the pool of operatives available for future missions."

"But Greg… Greg crossed the line, didn't he?"

"He did. He crossed it long before you went to Scotland with him."

"No. He never touched me, not before…"

"He isolated you, bound you to him…"

"He kept me safe. Kept the bad guys away. Oh. He kept _everyone_ away…" "

Da."

"Mycroft let him carry on as my handler. After he was…compromised. Why did he let it go on?"

"Mycroft was trying to hide you from yourself, as well as the world. It would have been hard to find another minder without risking that secrecy."

"Yeah. I didn't know he was my minder then. I didn't know until Scotland. Arkasha, I'm sure he didn't mean to fall for me. I don't know how that happened. Sometimes, I wonder if Mycroft _meant_ it to."

"It seems to be an inevitability. Grisha, Theo. Even Anthea, in a strange way. Me, of course."

Billy laughs.

"You're conflating things. Theo never fell in love with me. Oh, we had a fling, but that was well after he'd stopped being my bodyguard. And Anthea only wanted a sperm donor. She's a lesbian anyway."

"But still, I will watch carefully anyone who is given that job."

"Are you a jealous lover, Arkasha?"

"I do not know. I have never been in love before, I think."

"You're not inexperienced, though. You've never pretended to be. You're forty. You've had boyfriends. Sherlock, for one…"

"Da. There are people I have thought I loved. And there are some , like Sherlock, that I _do_ love. But not the way I love you, Billi. You are very special."

"I don't _do_ anything…"

"I know. There is something about you, Billi. I do not understand it either."

Arkady smiles. Changes the subject.

"You have been calling me 'Arkasha' since I arrived here…"

"It's your name. It's what you told me to call you when we first met."

"But you preferred Kady for me."

"Yeah. That was arrogant. Arkasha didn't roll off my tongue as easily as an English name, and I was too lazy to practice saying it. Calling you Kady was just, I don't know, deciding my name for you was better than your name for yourself."

"I do not mind you calling me Kady."

"I know. But I'll try not to do it too often. You've stopped calling Sherlock 'Vishka'…"

"When I met him, I knew him only as Vilhjálmur. It was a long time before I learned that his name was Sherlock. He is always Vilhjálmur when he goes to Russia. I did not search for a familial contraction for 'Sherlock'. Like for Bill, I am sure that none exists."

"I call him Shezz…"

"He does not like it much, but you are brothers, you can claim privilege. He would not be happy for me to call him Shezzka. In any case, my relationship with him is on a more formal basis just now."

"He's pissed you off. What's he done? Can you tell me?"

"He took it upon himself to terminate my contract as your bodyguard before there was need to do so."

"He didn't tell you about Freddy Denton…"

"He did not. And he accused me of "toying" with your affections."

"That's my fault. I told him you'd turned me down."

"Sherlock is worse at understanding emotional states than you are, Billi. Perhaps he misunderstood."

"I was a bit hurt. But it's all right now, though, isn't it? We're all right?"

"Da. We are." Arkady holds Billy tighter. "When I learned you had left your gun behind I was afraid for you. When you did not go to Gibraltar… when I could not find you, I despaired. Sherlock never seemed worried. I was angry because he showed so little feeling. It was a while before I realised he must have known you were safe."

"I was checking in. I texted him every time I was on the point of leaving somewhere. So if the texts were intercepted I'd be gone before the bad guys could show up. Same with the bank card. I only used it when I was on my way out of whatever town I was in."

"A good tactic."

"Learned it from you."

"Why did you not take the gun?"

"I don't like guns, Arkasha. I would have been nervous, carrying it. I didn't need it, anyway."

"This time…"

"I'm not going to turn into a secret agent. Can't see myself as a James Bond or an Indiana Jones…"

"Da. All right. No guns. But I do not like to think of you unarmed."

"I'll carry a gun if it's absolutely necessary. But only then."

"Good. I accept your compromise. Your handler might not…"

"My handler will have you to deal with."

"I will not know who it is."

"Of course you will."

"What if he falls in love with you?"

"Unlucky for him. I'm taken."


	3. Home, sweet…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> London
> 
> September 2019
> 
> Billy and Lestrade come face to face

Arkady and Billy make their way slowly through Gatwick airport. They have had a bumpy flight that should have taken three hours and ended up taking four, with the added joy of a delayed takeoff, getting them into London five hours after they started out.

Billy is surprised that there is no one to meet them, but he has become more independent in recent months, and he leads Arkady to the Gatwick Express platform in the South Terminal. They don't have a lot of luggage; a rucksack each, Arkady's greatcoat and Billy's oud, and it is a simple matter to get a number 73 bus from Victoria, where the Gatwick express terminates, to Camden, where Billy's boat is moored.

Arkady has not done much travelling on buses in London, and he looks around with interest from the top deck of the 73. They travel along the outside of Hyde Park to Marble Arch, along Oxford Street and past the huge building site that is still the cross-rail workings at Tottenham Court Road. They pass Euston and St Pancras stations, and eventually end up on Billy's home turf of Camden High Street.

To Billy's relief, and Arkady's delight, the SeaGlass is where it should be and doesn't seem to have suffered from being abandoned by its owner.

London is much warmer than Finland, and the first thing Billy does is strip off his jumper and hat, piling them on the bed, before looking in the fridge.

"At least Mycroft didn't forget to get some food in for us. Want a beer? Or you can fight with my coffee maker if you like. I'm rubbish with it."

Arkady laughs "You are not a connoisseur of coffee, Billi?"

"Nah. That was Greg. I like chamomile tea. And mint tea, since Marrakech."

Billy puts the kettle on for tea, and goes to unpack his few clothes. The sheepskin on the bed is new. A tawny dark-blonde colour. He guesses that Theo probably took the dark brown one with him when he moved out. It would have been cold in February/March in London.

Arkady makes chamomile tea for Billy, black tea for himself, and they raid the fridge for things to make into salad. They eat at the kitchen table, Arkady laughing at the old cinema seats Billy has in place of kitchen chairs along one side of his table.

"Well? What do you think?" Billy waves his arms around, indicating his domain.

"I like it very much. But it makes me a little nervous…"

"Nervous? Why?"

"It does not look easy to defend…"

"Oh. Yeah, I suppose. But it's also not easy to get trapped inside. Stop thinking like a spook. Relax. "

About halfway through their impromptu supper, there is a knock at the door. Billy answers it to the scowling face of Sally Donovan.

"Um hello, Sergeant Donovan…"

"I've brought this."

She thrusts Billy's guitar case at him and turns to leave. Arkady pushes past Billy and grabs her arm.

"Sergeant. It would be better to be civilised, I think. Come in and explain why you are so angry."

Sally sets her shoulders and scowls, but she comes inside the boat, taking up a stance just inside the door, between Arkady and Billy. Arkady frowns at her.

"I do not believe that Doctor Wiggins knows why you might be angry with him. Please tell him."

"He treated the guv'nor badly. And right after he'd been hurt."

"Ah. You think that Doctor Wiggins distanced himself from Chief Inspector Lestrade?"

"Well, yes … sir. He went off with you."

"I was his bodyguard. Your Chief Inspector was well aware of this before he came back to London."

"Well, you would say that…"

"Why did you not make this accusation to me when I was here in June?"

Sally fidgets. Arkady smiles, shark-like.

"I do not believe he sent you here tonight. I believe you are here to warn me that I am unlikely to be welcome at New Scotland Yard. Am I correct?"

"None of us want you there…"

"Sure about that, Sergeant?"

Donovan gasps as the measured tones come from behind her.

"Greg?" Billy spins and takes two steps toward Lestrade, grabbing his shoulders. "Greg? What's going on here? Why did you send her? Why did _you_ come?"

Lestrade wraps his arms around Billy, holding tight, breathing hard. "Let me just…. Sally, I'll see you in my office in the morning. Get out of here now, and if you _ever_ try a trick like this again I'll have your badge."

"But sir…"

"I do _not_ need nursemaiding. Go."

Donovan turns and leaves. Lestrade unwraps his arms from Billy's waist and grips his shoulders, pushing him away a little and peering at him before pulling him back towards him with a groan. Billy strokes Lestrade's hair and kisses his cheek.

"Greg, me and Arkasha, we're…"

"I know. I behaved stupidly and I'm paying the price."

Lestrade looks round for Arkady, who has retreated to the bedroom doorway.

"Arkasha…"

"Grisha. What is happening here?"

"His team all love him…" Billy smiles "and they gang up against anyone who hurts him."

"Yeah, so it seems." Lestrade grins, wryly. "I've not been inclined to discuss my personal life with my team, but you know what offices are like. Rumours get started. I didn't realise until today just how far it had gone. Sally's got it fixed in her head that you gave me the push, Bill."

Arkady throws Lestrade an indignant look.

"I know, Arkasha, but there's no arguing with her."

Billy scowls. "There was a time when she was doing her best to get you sacked, Greg."

"Yeah. But then she led the investigation that got me reinstated."

Billy scowls again.

"I expect she's got her reasons. Why did you let her bring my guitar round? And how did she know I'd be here anyway?"

"I didn't _let_ her bring the guitar. I've had it in my office for a few days, expecting that you'd be back any time. I didn't want to leave it here on the boat, and I wanted to be able to give it back as soon as I could. You've been without it a long time. She lifted it. To save me the bother of seeing you, according to Thompkiss."

"Who's Thompkiss?"

"New bloke. Joined us after I got back from Switzerland."

"But how did she know I'd be back today?"

"Mycroft called in a panic. He forgot to order you a car from Gatwick, and by the time his cameras picked you up, you were getting the bus from Victoria. She took his call."

"I thought it was odd that no one met us. What's upset Mycroft? It's not like him to forget something like that…"

"He's got a lot of stuff going on at the moment. No harm done, eh?"

"No. No harm."

Lestrade sits at Billy's table, clasps his hands together in front of him.

"Bill, I'm sorry I didn't do this properly. I realised how much I'd been holding you back, how much you needed to spread your wings."

"Yeah. I've grown up a lot. Greg, have you found anyone?"

"I've not been looking, Bill. I'm all right on my own just now."

Arkady humphs and walks outside to stand at the top of the tiny gangplank. He lights a cigarette and stares at the lights reflected in the canal, brooding. Lestrade glances at him, then looks closely at Billy.

"He loves you. It's really obvious. Do you love him?"

"Yeah. I love you as well, Greg. I always will. But with Arkasha, it's more…" He smiles. "It's just _more_."

"Yeah. I can see it. Go and tell him. Before he does a runner. And give Mycroft a call to let him know you're here safely."


	4. Look after yourself…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 2019
> 
> London
> 
> Sherlock does something stupid

"Bill! Bill Wiggins! Can you come?"

"What is it Charlie?"

"It's the detective. He's in a bad way…"

"Where?"

"Back of Euston station. Ellie's with him."

Billy grabs his crash helmet, throws Arkady's to Blue Charlie and jogs quickly up the gangway to the parking space where the two motorcycles are chained.

He breathes thanks to Mycroft for shipping everything over for them so quickly following their return from Helsinki. Billy fires up the Kawasaki, motioning Charlie to climb aboard.

He knows Charlie of old. The tattooed man would hesitate to get involved unless a life were in danger. But surely Sherlock can't have overdosed…

 

 

*********

 

Sherlock is awake. Sort of. His voice is slurred, his hands shake, he closes his eyes against the light that hurts his dilated eyes. He moans when a train passes over nearby tracks, making the ground vibrate. He tries to curl up against the wall and sleep again.

Billy hauls him upright. "You _stupid_ fucker." 

"You're one to talk…"

"No, Shezz. You don't get to judge me. I never took it willingly. Even when I was really fucked up. And even then I only took the absolute minimum…What were you _thinking_?"

"I was thinking I didn't want to think. I don't seem to be handling it as well as I expected…"

"I'll have to call Mycroft…"

"No. Please, Billy. Don't."

"You can't stay here, and I can't take you on the back of the bike. Not while you're like this…"

Billy and Charlie try to keep Sherlock conscious. Ellie has melted away. Billy considers his options, then hits a speed dial number on the new smartphone he'd bought almost as soon as landing in London. He hasn't used the number for a while.

" _Lestrade_ "

"Greg. I need your help. It's Sherlock…"

" _Where?_ "

"Back of Euston. Eversholt Street end."

" _On my way._ "

 

*********

 

"He'll be all right. Let him sleep for a while now. Haven't seen him like this for a very long time. D'you know what set it off?"

"No. Except… He's been visiting John this weekend. The trains from Cumbria come in to Euston." Billy takes off his crash helmet and leaves it on the hall table. "He must have got straight off the train and scored."

Lestrade goes to the kitchen and switches on the coffee machine.

"I've got chamomile tea if you want some. I kept it in case…"

"Yeah. Please."

They are in Lestrade's St John's Wood flat. Lestrade has laid Sherlock on his own bed and covered him carefully with a light blanket.

Billy searches the cupboards in the bathroom and kitchen for a bucket. He knows from his own experience that vomiting fits can be very sudden. He finds a small plastic pail under the sink, and takes it into the bedroom, placing it close to the bed, but not so close as to be a trip hazard if Sherlock gets up.

"Why did you bring him here? Why not Baker Street?"

Lestrade smiles grimly

"I don't know what he might have stashed there. At least I know _this_ flat is clean."

Billy takes the mug of chamomile tea that Lestrade holds out to him. He breathes in the vapour, smiles at the scent.

"I remember when you used to sneer at me for liking this. "

"Yeah. Long time ago now." Lestrade cracks his neck bones, and scrubs his hands through his hair. "Bill, you and Arkady… You all right?"

"Yeah…Shit. Blue Charlie's got his crash helmet. He'll think it's been nicked. He worries about how insecure the boat is."

Billy hits Arkady's speed dial number. He doesn't need to, he could text, but he loves Arkady's voice, gets a little shiver every time he hears it. Lestrade waits until Billy and Arkady have finished their brief conversation.

"Charlie? He'll take it back to the SeaGlass. He won't keep it."

"I know. But he might not have got there before Arkasha got back. And he doesn't know who Charlie is."

Lestrade smiles "That's my next question answered, anyway."

"What?"

"How come you were with his nibs when he was high as a kite…"

"Gregor Lestrade, if you even _suggest_ that you think I might have been shooting up with him…"

Lestrade takes a couple of steps back, hands held up in front of him, defensively.

"No, Bill. I can see you're not using. And I didn't think that for one moment."

"I used to be one of the network, remember? I've known Blue Charlie longer than I've known you. I was the obvious person to come to for help."

"Yeah. I know. Look, I'm going to have to talk to Mycroft. He won't like this, but he needs to know."

"Don't, Greg. Not yet. Myc's up to his eyeballs. And Shezz doesn't want him to know. Wait until he's feeling a bit more himself, have a chat with him. See if you can find out what's got him this way. If we need to talk to Myc, let me be the one to do it."

"All right. I keep forgetting you're his brother, too."

"You've seen him like this a lot, haven't you? Me, as well. How do you cope with it?"

"Just do. I know you're both worth saving. And if I can help, well…"

"You do help. I doubt if I'd be around at all if it hadn't been for you." Billy smiles. "Let him sleep for a while, Greg. I'm going to shoot off, I can't do anything for him that you can't do. If he wants to talk to me later, get him to give me a bell."

Lestrade walks Billy to the front door. Billy turns and kisses him on the cheek. Lestrade has to force himself not to lean into the kiss.

"Thanks for trusting me with this, Bill. I'll call you and let you know how he is. And I won't say anything to Mycroft without your say-so."

"Who else could I trust? Look after yourself, Greg."

Lestrade sighs, quietly.

"Yeah. Okay."


	5. Talk to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 2019
> 
> London 
> 
> Sherlock confides in Lestrade

"Talk to me."

Lestrade hands Sherlock a mug of tea, loaded with sugar. The great consulting detective looks very small, huddled in Lestrade's duvet, hair tousled and tangled. He has mauve shadows under his eyes, a yellow tinge to his skin, and his hand shakes as he takes the mug.

"Not much to say. Sorry Billy involved you. Probably do it again…"

He can't quite carry off the flippancy he is aiming for.

"I'm not your dad, Sherlock. We don't need to have this power struggle every time…"

Sherlock sneers. "But you enjoy being in the right so much, Lestrade."

"That's not fair, but you know what, I'm not going to argue with you. Talk to me, or talk to Mycroft. And ruin Jack's week."

"Oh, that is low, unworthy of you." 

"Yeah, well. Maybe I'm not the man I used to be."

Sherlock sighs and rolls his eyes. He doesn't quite carry that off either.

"In my pocket. Leaflet."

Lestrade has already seen it, of course. He had seen it when he had searched Sherlock's pockets for the remnants of the drugs. He pulls it out anyway and skims the text. He thinks he knows what this is all about, but asks the question anyway.

"John?"

"Yes. There are still tests to be done, but all the evidence so far points to what they call 'acquired' brain injury." Sherlock grimaces, "Although how one might acquire a non-acquired brain injury escapes me at the moment."

"Probably by assaulting it with narcotics." Lestrade is gruff, and to the point. "You can't do this to yourself any more, Sherlock. How is this helping?"

"It isn't. I know that. I just needed to…switch off for a while."

"I know, sunshine. I know."

Lestrade takes the empty tea mug away and wraps the duvet tighter around Sherlock, wrapping his own arms around the outside of it. He has learned over the years that all the Holmeses, even the tightly-wound Mycroft, will respond to being held a little _too_ tight by relaxing, and sometimes sleeping.

He sits holding Sherlock tightly all night.

 

*********

 

"So the problem behaviours can be attributed to something physical? Why didn't they find this sooner?"

Sherlock scowls at the milky porridge Lestrade is trying to force him to eat. He feels dreadful, and knows he deserves to.

"Scanning technology is better now, better even than just a few years ago, and they think an old injury has been made worse by more recent events. Hence the rapid escalation." He struggles with a spoonful of porridge. "Brain injury can cause all sorts of symptoms, depending on where it is in the brain. It would seem that John's injury is in the temporal lobe. Forgetfulness, personality changes, seizures, hallucinations, are all symptomatic. There are other things too, hearing problems, nausea, muscle weakness. Long term, he could lose his speech. He's already losing vocabulary."

"What about the alcohol abuse?"

"Just alcohol abuse, I'm afraid. That seems to be genetic. And there is also PTSD of course, causing anxiety. It is very complicated."

"What's the treatment?"

"More of what we've been doing. Containment. Analysis, CBT, psychotherapy for the PTSD. Anti-convulsive medication. He's miserable, Greg. He can't help any of it, and he'll never be cured."

"There's no way of treating it surgically?"

"No. It is largely scarring. It would be too dangerous to attempt to remove the scar tissue. It could cause further damage. If he didn't have the PTSD or the alcohol issues he might be able to leave the hospital, but as things are…"

Sherlock blinks back tears, sniffs a bit. Lestrade looks away, a lump in his own throat.

"He needs to have constant care. I can't do it, Greg. I can't bear to see him like this, and I have responsibilities, work, family…" he takes a deep breath.  "And I have to go abroad again. I could be called on at any time. I could bring him home, but only if I have a care team as well. He would hate that."

"Does he know? That this is permanent?" "

Yes. But he forgets. And the episodes of syncope and forgetfulness are becoming more frequent, the trigger level of anxiety is getting lower."

"Shit."

"We had started to make some plans for retirement. A cottage in the country, you know the sort of thing…"

"Yeah. I plan to go back to the Camargue when it's my time…"

"I am not _ready_ to retire yet. I would end up resenting him, and he would end up loathing me."

"I don't know what to suggest. I know you two are really close."

"I need to think. At least I am still here to do it. Thank you for rescuing me, yet again."

"Thank Billy. And Blue Charlie. They found you."

"You sat up all night with me."

"Yeah, well, I've always been an idiot where you're concerned. Don't take advantage of it. Eat your porridge before it gets cold."

Sherlock eats his porridge.


	6. Busy day tomorrow…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 2019
> 
> London
> 
> Preparations are under way for an important event

"Should it look like this, do you think?"

Arkady frowns at the contents of the pan.

"I think so. The potato will thicken it up a bit. Put that in now, chop it up small first."

Billy is in the unusual position of being chief cook. Arkady _can_ cook, but doesn't really enjoy it. He likes eating out, often buys food from street vendors, but has not really enjoyed the pseudo-street food he has found in London.

"What is the traditional dish for London?"

"Not sure there is one, really. Depends which bit of London. Here, round Camden, it's probably pie and mash."

Arkady shudders. He has tried pie and mash, and has not liked it very much.

"I liked the salt beef sandwiches we had in that large department store…"

"Oh, yeah. Selfridges. Yeah, that's always good. My gran used to take me there when I was little. I like the caraway seedy bread they use. It's hardly changed, really. Except you can't smoke in there now."

Arkady adds potatoes to what looks like a thin vegetable soup, and replaces the lid on the pan. Billy smiles.

"It'll look better once the potatoes are cooked and the tomato goes in."

"I hope so. It smells good, though."

"Yeah. It'll warm us up anyway. Go and sit down. I'll make some tea. This'll take ages."

Arkady sits on the sofa, smiling as he watches Billy bustling around the kitchen, bumping his head on the ceiling when he forgets how low it is in that part of the boat.

"Come and sit with me, Billi."

Billy hands Arkady his tea, curls up beside him with his own. It is the absolute picture of domestic bliss. Billy waits for the other boot to drop. It doesn't take long.

"I have been given a task to do. It will take me out of the UK."

"Will you be able to be in contact with me?"

"Da. Yes, it is not under cover. I will text you. It is better that you do not text me, though, in case my phone makes noise at an inappropriate time."

"All right. How long do you think you'll be away?"

"A few days only. I will see you again before you even have time to miss me."

"I miss you when you go to the corner shop…"

Arkady laughs. "I cannot put into words how much I will miss _you_ , Billi."

"So when are you going?"

"Tomorrow morning. My train leaves from St Pancras at nine."

"Tomorrow? Why didn't you mention this sooner?"

"I was not told myself until this afternoon. I have not been keeping it secret, Billi."

"But tomorrow? That's not fair." Billy pouts. "Everyone else will have someone…"

"There will be people for you to talk with, and to dance with, I expect."

"I don't think it's going to be a big party." He frowns a little "I'll come and see you off, at least."

"You will be busy."

"Not too busy for that. Anyway, St Pancras is on the way…"

 

*********

 

"Who's going to be there?"

"Mycroft's been in charge of the guest list, so I don't know exactly who's RSVP'd. Mummy and Dad. Mycroft and Jack, obviously. Billy and Arkady. Greg and one or two of his team. Molly. A couple of Mycroft's people. Val, of course. Me, and you." Sherlock smiles. "It will be quiet and civilised. The food will be good. Mycroft's arranged for the Diogenes caterers to supply it."

"Handy being able to pull strings. It'll be nice to see your parents again. You won't fight with Mycroft too much, will you? It gives me a headache when you do that."

"I'll try my best, but you know what he's like."

"It's good to be home. Even if it is only for a couple of days."

"We need to ease you back into real life, John. It would be a shock to your system if we just flung you back into the deep end."

"Yeah. I know. Come and ease me into a cuddle?"

 

*********

 

Mycroft pulls out a grey hair and scowls at it. Just what he needs, a sign he is getting old. He pulls on pyjamas and climbs into bed. He wishes Logan was there, but his partner has business to attend to. He shrugs his shoulders, trying to relax. He always misses Logan when he is away. " _Never mind. I'll see him tomorrow._ "

He picks up his phone from the bedside table and places a call.

"Hello. Is everything still all right?"

" _Yes. Not expecting any real activity for a couple of days yet."_

"Good. Arkady Yegorov will be with you by tomorrow afternoon. You have his number?"

" _Yes. Why him?"_

"He is the most easily spared at the moment. Call him if there are any problems at all. Call me if your schedule becomes accelerated."

" _If the schedule becomes accelerated. Right. One day you'll start talking as if you haven't got a stick up your arse. Sir."_

"Hm. While I appreciate a sense of humour…"

" _You're worried. I know. Any chance of Dr Wiggins coming?"_

"Yes. There are some complicating factors, but he should be with you in a few days."

" _Okay then. I'll call Yegorov if I need to. I hope it all goes well tomorrow, sir. With that many Holmeses in one place…"_

"Yes. A critical mass. Thank you for reminding me."

 

*********

 

Luce hangs his new suit carefully on the back of the door. He has spent more on this than he would normally spend on _everything_ in a month, but DI Dimmock had told him to get good suits, and it _is_ for a special occasion. His first crack at being an operative.

The suit is a mid caramel brown mohair, shot with burgundy. _Two-tone,_ his ma would have called it. His dad would have said _Tonik_. His shirt is palest cream. Off-white, really. His tie is burgundy silk, and his shoes ox-blood leather, polished to a high gloss. He will look good. He knows he will, now that his hair has grown out a little and turned ringlety again. And he won't look _so_ tall, not next to his new charge.

He goes to bed. Early start tomorrow.

He runs through the protocols mentally. Hopes he won't let the side down.

 

*********

 

Dimmock leans back and stretches.

"I think it sounds great."

"Flatterer."

Lestrade has been doing his hand exercises diligently, oiling the skin, massaging the muscles. The scar tissue is as flexible as he can get it. The goal has been to get to the point he is at tonight, where he can play through half a dozen songs without splitting the skin, or getting cramped muscles.

"I'm not as fast as I used to be…"

"I couldn't tell the difference. Anyway, you're the bass man. You set the tempo."

"That's if I decide to play. I might not."

"Well, that's up to you. I'll have my mouth organ in my pocket, in case you need a bit of moral support."

"Is _that_ what that is in your pocket? I thought you were pleased to see me…"

Dimmock's eyes widen, then crinkle as he laughs.

"Fuck off, Greg."

Lestrade laughs too. "I think I'm going to call it a night, T. "

"Yeah. Busy day tomorrow. I'll see myself out."

"Okay. See you in the morning, mate."


	7. Legacies and Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 2019  
> London
> 
> The big day

Billy wakes early. He has spent the night wrapped tightly in Arkady's arms, warm and safe. He lies quietly for a while, listening to Arkady breathing against his neck. He doesn't want to wake his lover, but knows that if he doesn't, the rush to get ready and leave will prevent them from saying a proper goodbye.

Billy has been left without proper goodbyes often enough to be worried that it might happen again. He strokes Arkady's back, smiling at the smooth expanse of unscarred skin. Arkady wakes at his touch.

"Good morning."

"Yeah. I suppose so. It's not light yet…"

"It will be by the time we have had breakfast. Are you sure you want to come to the station?"

"Yeah. I need to be at Mycroft's for half ten, anyway. Some kind of 'family conference' meeting. I didn't know the Holmeses went in for that sort of thing…"

"You will find out what it is about soon enough, I expect. But it is an odd day to choose."

"Yeah. There's all sorts of stuff going on though. Theo's keeping secrets, and so is Sherlock. And there's whatever Mycroft's sending you off to do…"

"And the Holmes family all in one place. I wonder, should I be worried?"

"I think they've just picked today for the conference because their parents are in London anyway. And there can't be many safer places than Mycroft's house. Don't worry. I expect there'll be plenty of spooks on the ground. And you're not allowed to be my bodyguard anyway."

"I know. Go and shower. You always take much longer than I to get dressed."

 

*********

 

Billy leaves Arkady at the Eurostar check-in and walks slowly back along Euston Road towards St Pancras church, a landmark with its grey Portland stone and caryatids. As he draws level with the Friends House, the Quaker meeting rooms, he notices a DeLorean being driven slowly along beside him. He stops. The car draws to a halt and the driver pops the gull wing passenger door.

"Thank goodness for that. Any longer and I'd have been done for kerb-crawling."

Billy laughs as he slides into the car.

"That would have been embarrassing, what with you being a DI and all."

"Yes. You on your way to Mycroft's?"

"Yeah. But I'll be really early if you give me a lift."

"That's all right." Dimmock smiles. "I've got someone I need you to meet. I've left him outside Waterstones at Gower Street, trying to look inconspicuous."

"Is he my new minder?"

"What makes you think that?"

Billy doesn't answer, simply raises an eyebrow.

"Yes. All right. Mycroft insists that you have someone looking out for you. You sent him into a flat spin when you disappeared from Marrakech, you know."

"I know. But there was a leak in his team. And I managed fine all summer without a bodyguard. I'm still managing fine."

"But you've had Arkady for the last three months."

"He's not been reporting on me…"

Dimmock doesn't answer.

"He told me that he wasn't _allowed_ to be my bodyguard now."

"I think Mycroft has a different set of rules when it comes to you and Sherlock."

Billy frowns. He has a growing list of questions for Mycroft. He adds another one… _two_ to it.

Dimmock pulls the DeLorean into the kerb outside the bookshop and motions Billy to get out. "His name's Luce. You can't miss him. Get him to walk you to Mycroft's. I'll see you later." Dimmock smiles. "Oh, and don't be too hard on him. He's brand new."

Billy gets out of the car and waves as Dimmock pulls away. He turns and walks toward Waterstones bookshop. The doors have just opened, and a few students are wandering in from the cold. The bookshop is the local one for UCL, and Billy spots one of his university colleagues who does a double-take at his outfit. Billy smiles and wonders what rumours he will go back to; a violet slubbed-silk suit says a lot. Getting out of a DeLorean driven by a good-looking man who is not your boyfriend says more.

Billy wanders over to look in the shop window. He notices the reflection of a very tall young man in a sharp brown mohair suit appear behind him. He doesn't turn around.

"Are you Luce?"

"Dr Wiggins?"

"Mm. Didn't answer my question."

"Yes sir. Lucien Thompkiss. I'm supposed to escort you to Mr Holmes's house."

"All right." Billy falls into step beside him. "Do you like being called Luce?"

"It's what everyone calls me, sir. Apart from Major Yegorov. He calls me Luka."

"Didn't answer the question. Again."

"Sorry sir. I really prefer Lucien."

"All right. Lucien it is, then. How long have you been a spook, Lucien?"

"A spook, sir?"

"An _operative_. Theo…DI Dimmock said you were new at it."

"Um. I'm not sure I'm allowed to answer that, sir. "

"Have you got a file on me?"

"No sir. I've just been told about you, that's all."

"Who did the telling? Theo? Greg? _Arkady_?"

"Mostly Major Yegorov, sir. Some details from DI Dimmock. I don't interact much with DCI Lestrade."

It is not far from Gower Street to Mycroft's house in Fitzrovia. When they arrive, Luce goes to the drawing room, to wait with other non-Holmeses. Billy goes straight to the library, where Mycroft, Sherlock, and their mother and stepfather are waiting for him.

 

*********

 

Billy pokes his head around the kitchen door.

"Can you do tea for five in the library please?"

"Yes sir" the housekeeper smiles "but you should have just rung down. No need to come yourself".

"I needed to stretch my legs, and have a cigarette. Garden out this way?" He waves toward the back door.

"Yes sir. But it would be better if you went out through the drawing room. There's a canopy over the terrace up there. You'll spoil your suit if you go out this way. It's raining."

Billy thanks her and goes back up to the drawing room. He nods to a few people he knows, and collects Luce on his way through.

"You got any cigarettes?"

"Yes sir."

Luce offers an open pack, then lights the cigarette for Billy. It is Billy's preferred brand. Luce doesn't light one for himself.

"Do you smoke, Lucien?"

"No, sir."

"How long have you known you were going to be my minder?"

"About a month, sir."

 

*********

 

"I'm sorry, Mycroft. This is getting out of hand. I don't want any of this."

"But it is your right, Bill."

"No." Billy looks at Viola Holmes. "No disrespect, Dr Holmes, but I'm not related to you or your husband in any way. Why do you want to make me a beneficiary?"

"You are my sons' brother, Bill."

"Half-brother. I've got everything I need. I've got my boat, and my work. I've got income from royalties and licensing contracts. I've got a little bit of fame and recognition, which is nice. I don't need shares of properties in France and Iceland and goodness knows where. Just split it all between Mycroft and Sherlock."

Mycroft frowns.

"There is a property in France that belonged to Siger, and which I insist that you accept, Bill. It is a charming little house in the Camargue, and it has a quirkiness that I am sure you would appreciate."

Sherlock hums his agreement.

"It would be perfect for you, Billy. It isn't what you would call a family house, but it is an ideal size for a couple. Or a person living alone. You could rent it out if you wanted to. Or let a friend use it…"

"You won't give up, will you? Either of you? All right. But that's all."

"There are financial considerations…"

"Mycroft. Just do what you want. I don't care. You'll manipulate me anyway. You always have." Billy sighs. "Just let me know when you want me to sign the papers."

 

*********

 

"How's it going, Luce?"

Dimmock smiles at his young constable.

"All right, sir. He's a bit scary. Sharp."

"Yes. But you'll like him when you get to know him. I think he's upset that Arkady's been sent off at short notice."

"Right sir. This is a strange sort of set-up. Everyone's watching everyone else…"

Dimmock laughs. "You'll get used to that. Who's the bloke with the ponytail?"

"Name's Valentin Quinn, sir. Sort of nurse-companion for Dr Watson. Sad business, that."

"He's got a bit of muscle on him, hasn't he?"

"Yeah. Wouldn't want to get into a fist fight with him."

"Do you know much about Dr Watson?"

"No, sir. But I get the impression he used to be well-liked at the Yard, then suddenly wasn't any more. I was there when he attacked the DCI, if you recall, sir. And now he's sick…"

"Yes. Sherlock cares a great deal for him…"

"That's obvious, sir. Even to me, and I haven't known either of them very long."

Dimmock smiles and looks around.

"Here's your man. Make sure he gets home safe tonight. If he's had a drink, stay with him overnight. I'd recommend the sofa on that boat over the hammock, but it's your choice. This is a danger night for him. He'll be thinking of bad times, of maybes. Arkady's away, Mycroft's pissed him off royally, and Greg's here…"

"DCI Lestrade? Surely that was all just rumours, sir?"

"Not entirely. Don't ask."

 

*********

 

"Are you sure you don't want to be nearer the front, sir?"

"I'm not sure I want to be here at all, Lucien."

Billy shuffles further into the shadows at the back of the church. The pews are mostly empty, there are few people in attendance for the ceremony, and Billy knows most of them. Dimmock is near the front, clearly visible in a Klein blue suit, slubbed silk, like Billy's, but double-breasted with narrow lapels, rather than Nehru-collared, Billy's preferred style. Lestrade sits next to him, solid and strong in lightweight grey wool/silk mix and a mauve tie.

John Watson wears charcoal grey, obviously bespoke, emphasising his shoulders and making him look taller, somehow. The dim light of late afternoon lends a bright gold gleam to his hair, and a softness to his features. Sherlock is in his usual tight-fitting black, a slightly longer than usual jacket giving him the look of a Heathcliff, or a young Rochester.

Dr Viola Holmes looks like a perfect mother-of-the-bridegroom, with the biggest hat Billy has ever seen, flowers, feathers and frills all over it. She has the biggest smile Billy has ever seen, too, the teary kind of smile that suggests she never thought she would actually see this day.

Logan is here at last, having sent Mycroft into a panic by missing his early morning plane. He is in full dress uniform, the gold insignia and buttons of the City of London Police shining, and the new third gold pip indicating his recent promotion to Chief Inspector. Mycroft wears…not white, exactly, but a pale, pale pearl grey three piece, cut to make him look longer and leaner than ever. He and Logan make a handsome couple.

Billy suddenly feels glad that he stayed, and quietly shuffles forward a few rows, before the service starts. Mycroft sees him and smiles. He leans across and whispers something to Sherlock. Sherlock turns and nods at Billy, acknowledging his presence.

Billy can see that Sherlock has tears in his eyes as he stands and walks forward with Mycroft to stand at the altar steps. He is the obvious choice to be Mycroft's best man, as Mycroft is the obvious choice to be his.

Billy blinks back his own tears, as he watches his brothers make vows binding themselves to their friends, lovers, _husbands_. 


	8. I'll choose dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 2019
> 
> London
> 
> The wedding reception

Billy waits until nearly everyone else has left the church. He sends Luce outside with instructions to throw confetti on his behalf, and grabs hold of Lestrade's arm as he passes the end of his pew.

"How long, do you think?"

"What?"

"John."

"What makes you think I'd know?"

"Shezz talks to you. More than to anyone else. Mycroft, too. How long?"

"It's hard to tell. Sherlock's talking about three years if nothing changes. Says he's going  to give up active casework and concentrate on research."

"He won't cope well with that. And you need him…"

"I can manage. I've got the best team I've ever had. Talk to your brothers. I'm surprised _you_ don't know more…"

"They're keeping me out of things. You know they do that. They think I'm a flake…"

"I don't think so. Not any more. Not since Arkady…" Lestrade looks around, puzzled. "Where _is_ Arkady?"

"Don't pretend you don't know. I'm fed up with people pretending…"

"I promise you I'm not pretending to you about anything, Bill. Where is he?"

"France, probably. Or passing through France, anyway. I saw him off on the Eurostar this morning. Before I met my new minder."

"Sorry, new minder? "

"They keeping things from you, too? That's interesting."

"Yeah, it is. Saw you with young Thompkiss earlier…"

"Bingo. Arkady calls him Luka. Been briefing him for the last month , apparently. Theo as well. I met him for the first time this morning. Something's going on, Greg, people are keeping secrets, and I don't like it."

 

*********

 

"Sherlock will have assistance. Valentin is an excellent dementia nurse…"

Billy blinks. Mycroft has thrown the term out as casually as if Valentin had been an excellent chicken-pox nurse.

"Dementia?"

"The symptoms of some brain injury cases are like those found in frontotemporal dementia. Personality change, memory loss, communication difficulties. Of course, like most brain conditions, the only sure method of diagnosis is by post-mortem examination." Mycroft smiles grimly. "Of course, that option is not available to us. Valentin is trained in working with the more…difficult manifestations of brain damage. Sherlock is still looking for treatments, but I do not believe he will find one. He and Valentin need to manage the symptoms, to give John, and Sherlock, as good a quality of life as possible. John is strong, and he has a temper. Valentin is ex-military, too. He is a great help to Sherlock already, and John finds him simpatico."

"Where will they live? Baker Street?"

"They would like to, but it would not be practical. Sherlock has been spending weekends with John in Cumbria, but wants to be further south before the winter sets in properly. There is a cottage in Norfolk that they could use, or a bungalow on the south coast."

"I hope they're happy."

Mycroft raises an eyebrow in surprise

 

"Really? I know you do not have any great liking for John…"

"He's married to my brother. I hope they're happy for Sherlock's sake. I hope they get enough time to be happy in."

 

*********

 

Billy leans back against the wall, sipping his champagne. The toasts and speeches have been mercifully short, the cakes have been cut and the first dances danced. Luce leans next to him.

"First time I've been to a double wedding, sir."

"Hm. Me too. Not that I've been to many weddings at all."

"It was a nice ceremony I thought, sir. The reception's nice, too. Nice cake, good food. Surprised it's a buffet, though. Thought Mr Holmes would be more of a sit-down sort of bloke."

Billy laughs

"You mean Mycroft? Yeah, I suppose it would have been more formal if it had just been him, but he wouldn't want to have some of Sherlock's  hoi-polloi guests sitting down."

"Hoi polloi, sir?"

"Yeah. Me and you, for a start. Random coppers, spooks and morgue attendants. Homeless…"

"Homeless, sir?"

"Yeah. Come on" he grabs Luce's hand and pulls him towards the back door of the function room. "someone you should meet."

 

*********

 

Sherlock is sitting on the edge of the terrace, an unopened bottle of champagne and a slice of wedding cake on a small tray beside him.

"Hi, Shezz. Is that Charlie with you?"

Blue Charlie fades out of the shadows.

"Hello Bill. Nice suit…"

"Hello, Charlie. One day you'll have to teach me how to do that invisibility thing you do. I want to introduce you to my friend Lucien."

Luce stares, until Billy elbows him in the ribs.

"Er, sorry, Mr…?"

"Just Charlie. What's your business with Dr Wiggins?"

"He's my bodyguard, Charlie. He's new to it all, but you can trust him with messages for me or Mr Lestrade."

"You sure, Bill?"

"Yeah. Call it instinct."

Blue Charlie nods and turns to Luce.

"Constable is it? You got another name?"

"Thompkiss."

"Right, Constable Lucien Thompkiss. I'll find you if I need to. If you need to get a message to me, just tip the nearest homeless person you see and ask them to find Blue Charlie for you."

"Yes, sir."

Charlie laughs, winks at Billy.

"Cute, ain't he?" He grins at Luce. "Don't call me sir. Just Charlie."

 

*********

 

Lestrade grins at Dimmock. They have just finished playing "Love Me Do", to well-deserved applause. Billy has been watching from the back of the room.

"Everything all right, sir?"

"What? Yeah. It's just seeing him playing. I wish… I should've brought my Strat. I should have known he'd play."

"Your Strat, sir? Turquoise, is it? Case a bit burnt?"

"Yeah. How…?"

"He had it in his office for a while. It's in the boot of DI Dimmock's car. I noticed it earlier."

Billy strolls over to where Dimmock is getting himself a glass of orange juice to wet his lips after playing mouth-organ.

"Lucien tells me you've been breaking and entering…"

Dimmock laughs

"Do you want to go and get it? He'll be up there for hours now he's started."

He hands Billy his keys.

 

*********

 

Billy sits at the back of the stage, hiding behind the speaker stack, headphones plugged into a spare amp. He tunes briefly, then unplugs the headphones. Lestrade is playing along with a guitarist Billy doesn't know. " _He must be with the band_ ", he thinks.

Someone in the reception party calls out a song request. It is one that Lestrade knows, one that a lot of people of his generation like. He starts to play the bass line, waiting for the guitarist to join in, and is surprised when he hears a better, more skilled guitarist playing. He looks around, but can't see who is playing. The vocalist has gone to get a drink, so Lestrade starts to sing. The crowd cheer a little. The song is popular, and Lestrade has a good voice.

He sings the second verse, "… _you can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold. You promised me everything. You promised me thick and thin, yeah. Now you just say 'Oh Romeo, yeah you know I used to have a scene with him_ '…" He starts to sing the chorus and stops in confusion as he feels warm breath on the back of his neck, and another voice, rougher, more gravelly, takes over.

"… _when we made love you used to cry. You said 'I love you like the stars above. I'll love you till I die.' There's a place for us. You know, the movie song. When you gonna realise it was just that the time was wrong…_ "

Billy has approached warily, not yet sure of the welcome. They have not played together since they were on the road to Lausanne. Lestrade smiles and segues into another, livelier song, with a better dance beat and a bigger guitar part for Billy. They fall into a familiar onstage relationship.

After two or three more songs, they leave the stage to the professionals, and Billy gives his guitar to Luce to look after, while he follows Lestrade to the terrace.

 

*********

 

"That was good. I haven't played with anyone since we did our last gig."

"What, no one?"

"No. I've missed it."

Lestrade pulls out a pack of cigarettes and raises an eyebrow in question. When Billy smiles, he lights two, passing one over. He is conscious of his fingers trembling at the touch of Billy's, and he draws his hand back quickly.

"I've missed playing with you. I wasn't sure if you'd bring your guitar. I've been practicing for ages, getting my fingers working again…"

"Theo brought it. And he shouted out the request for Romeo and Juliet."

"Manipulative bugger."

Billy laughs.

"I love that song." He hums, quietly "when we made love, you used to cry…"

Lestrade closes his eyes, shivers.

"Don't, Bill. Please."

"Greg, do you think Arkady really does love me?"

"Yeah. I think he does. Why are you asking _me_ this?"

"He's been reporting on me. He told me he wasn't my minder any more, but he's been reporting on me, and training Lucien. How can I trust him? He _promised_ me…"

"Billy, love. He's probably under instructions not to let you know what's happening. He probably hates it as much as you do. I've seen the way he looks at you, Bill. He loves you. If there was the slightest doubt in my mind about that, I'd…"

"What? What would you do?"

"You'd see. If it happened."

"What if there's doubt in my mind?"

"Oh, no. Don't. I won't make decisions for you. I've tried that and suffered for it. Just… well, you know where I am. I'll always be there."

Billy bends and kisses him gently, one hand on the back of his neck, fingers pushing into the silver strands of hair at his nape.

"I dream of you sometimes, you know."

Lestrade draws in a breath, sharp in his chest.

"Stop, Bill. Please. I can't do this. Not while you're with Arkady."

Billy steps away from him, smiling sadly.

"I know. I'm sorry."

He walks back into the function room, where Luce is waiting, pretending he hasn't seen anything.

"Just in time to see the happy couples off, sir."

"Good timing. Let's go and wave at them. Then you can have a choice of dancing me off my feet or watching me get drunk off my head."

"I'll choose dancing, sir."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lestrade and Billy played [ Romeo and Juliet ](http://youtu.be/64vvX6-d_JY) by Dire Straits
> 
>  
> 
> They're like binary black holes. Can't escape from each other's gravity.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 2019
> 
> London; Toulouse

**To: BHW: Come. Now. Get a plane to Toulouse. Bring all your Wiggins/Holmes ID papers. I will send details of tickets, transport, route, final address to Luka. AY**

**To: BW: Need to get to Gatwick in under 3 hours. Do you prefer train or car? LT**

**To: LT: Car. What do I need to pack? Since you seem to be the one getting the information. BHW**

**To: BHW: Overnight stuff, he said. And your guitar. What's the H stand for? LT**

**To: LT: Holmes. Sometimes wish it didn't. Pick me up from the SeaGlass. I'm on my way there now. BHW**

*********

Lucien is a good traveller. He enjoys the bustle of airports, likes in-flight food, flirts with the cabin staff. In return he gets extra portions of dessert, extra coffees, the offer of a blanket over his knees. 

Billy is not such a good traveller. He never eats airline food, still has no clear idea how to flirt, takes things people say literally, for the most part. He has learned it is best to stay quiet and pretend he is asleep. 

Lucien laughs when Billy says he prefers to keep his seatbelt on for the whole trip. 

"What about when you need the loo?"

"I don't use aeroplane loos. I make sure I go before I board."

"Is that a phobia, sir?"

"No. Just a preference. And stop calling me sir."

"All right, Bill. Do you know what we're flying into? He didn't really say a lot to me."

"No. All I know is that he had some business in France in the summer. When I was still in Marrakech. Maybe it's connected…"

"You were in Marrakech? I've always wanted to go to Morocco."

"There's a lot of storks…"

"More than that, I'm sure."

"I was locked inside a riad for two months. I didn't get to see much more than the storks."

"That's a shame. You should go back again. Stay in a hotel. Have some fun."

"I don't really know how to have fun."

"Sorry?"

"Never had people to have fun with, really. Been on my own mostly."

"Maybe you should join a club, or something."

"Not much of a joiner…"

"When we get back I'll take you to my dance class. There's never enough men."

"I don't need to meet _women_ , Lucien…"

"That's not what you'd be there for. You'd be there to dance. And it would make you feel good. Endorphins, or something."

"Yeah. Maybe I can take you to my maths class."

Luce laughs. "Was that a joke? I nearly missed it…"

"Most people would have."

*********

When Billy and Luce get off the plane, there is a car waiting. Luce jumps into the driving seat and checks the SatNav. 

"It's pre-programmed. We're going to an address outside Toulouse. It won't take long."

Billy throws his bag and guitar case into the back of the car and climbs into the passenger seat. Luce starts the engine and drives off. 

The day is gloomy. There is a bit of November fog and drizzle, but the winter will not set in properly for another month or so. Luce drives with fog lamps and windscreen wipers on, keeps plenty of space between the car and the one in front. The roads are slippy.

*********

"Hello, Doc. Long time, no see."

"Queenie?" Billy crouches and hugs her. "They didn't tell me you survived."

"Not just me. Come inside."

Billy follows Queenie into the farmhouse. It is cold and dank, and doesn't feel lived-in at all. Arkady appears in the kitchen doorway, looking worried.

"Billi. Are you all right? Fedya told me you are depressed…"

" _Theo_ told you? Why did _he_ need to tell you?"

"You are upset that I could not tell you what has been happening."

"Yeah. A bit. Can you tell me now?"

"Da. I will. Come and have tea."

Billy follows Arkady into the kitchen.

*********

"In the summer, when I left you in Marrakech, I came here with Sherlock and Fedya. Queenie was being held by Siger's people as a hostage. We neutralised the situation."

"Why were they holding Queenie?"

"It seems that they knew of her relationship with Colonel Smith."

"Anthea survived as well?"

"Da. They are the only two, other than you and I, Billi."

"Where is Anthea?"

"She is sleeping. She will speak with you later. There is lots to tell."

Billy wraps his hands around his tea mug. He hasn't felt like taking his coat off yet, the house is so chilly.

"Why's it so cold? This place doesn't feel as if it's been lived in at all."

"It has been empty since the summer. Anthea and Queenie have been living somewhere else. They only returned here today."

"Okay. How long will we be staying here? You told Lucien to pack overnight things…"

"It is likely to be more than a few nights, but Toulouse is a good town for shopping. "

"I will show you our room." Arkady beckons to Billy to follow him. He nods at Luce "Yours also, Luka. I have lit the stoves, so the rooms should feel warmer than downstairs."

*********

Billy cuddles up to Arkady on the big sitting room sofa. Luce sits in a well-stuffed armchair next to the fireplace, and Queenie has climbed out of her electric wheelchair to sit in the other half of the pair, on the opposite side of the fire. The space between Queenie's chair and the sofa is filled with a low chaise. Anthea is sitting there, wrapped in blankets. 

"So, when are you due?"

Billy is suspicious of Anthea's obviously full-term pregnancy. He scowls as she replies. 

"I'm overdue, Bill. She should have been born last week. If I don't go into labour in the next two days, I'll have to be induced."

"She?" He blinks. "A girl? Who's the father?"

"You are, Bill"

"No. I didn't donate sperm."

"Kristof helped me. He used your embryos, Bill. Only one implanted successfully though. There is only one baby. I don't know who the other donor was. I haven't wanted to risk invasive testing to find out. Time enough after she's born."

"Why didn't you just use the sperm samples?"

"I want my baby to have eyes like yours, Bill."

"That's a ridiculous justification for _stealing_ my genetic material."

"That's harsh, Bill. You donated your ova."

"For Mycroft and Sherlock to use. Not for you. I specifically refused to attempt to father a child for you, Anthea. You drugged me…"

"Think of me as a surrogate…"

"No. Surrogates don't get pregnant for themselves. You've made me responsible for a child I didn't…don't want."

Arkady and Luce watch the verbal tennis match for a few minutes. Billy notices when "ova" suddenly becomes a significant word in Luce's understanding of what is happening. He is surprised that it takes Arkady a beat longer.

"Sorry, sir. Bill, I mean. Did she say ' _ova'_? As in ovaries?"

"Yeah. It's a complicated story. I've got something weird in my DNA…"

Queenie laughs. 

"That's for sure. I've still got Siger's paper if you think it would be helpful for these two to read it, Doc. And if you want to share the information with them, of course."

Billy shrugs. 

"It's a published paper. They don't need my permission to read it." He turns to Arkady. "I thought you knew. I thought it would have been in my file. I'm sorry, Arkasha. It'll be a bit of a shock, I expect."

He stands. "I'm going to bed. Give them the paper, Queenie. I'll answer questions in the morning."

*********

Billy wakes as Arkady climbs into bed beside him. 

"Why are you all the way over on the edge of the bed? Come closer, get warm."

"I wasn't sure if you'd still want to sleep with me. Or be with me. I'm a freak…"

"You are not. Did Grisha know this? Before he left Lausanne?"

"Yeah. Do you think it bothered him? He said it didn't…"

"I do not think he would be so shallow. He would not hold you at fault because of DNA you inherited from your parents." Arkady smiles. "It does not change who you are, Billi. Any more than you finding out that my grandfather was a circus acrobat would change who I am for you…"

Billy giggles. " _Was_ your grandfather a circus acrobat?"

"Da. One of the Flying Yegorovskis…"

"This is really important information, Arkasha. Why haven't you told me this before?"

"I thought you would know. It should be obvious from my physical flexibility and stamina…"

Billy laughs out loud. Arkady joins in, and tickles him to make him laugh more.

"I knew you must have a sense of humour somewhere inside you, Billi."

"I've always had one. People don't always spot when I'm joking, though. Lucien laughed at one of my jokes today, as well. Perhaps I need to practice talking to people more."

"Da. It is hard to be humorous with no audience."

"This pregnancy. Did you know about it in the summer?"

"Da. Mycroft swore me to secrecy. Fedya also."

"Sherlock knows as well. Everyone knew I was having a baby except me."

"Not everyone, I think. I did not realise that you were…mother to the child. Your surgery in Lausanne was to remove a second ovary?"

"Yeah. Who were the sperm donors, do you know?"

"I was one, for insurance, I think, or possibly my blond handsomeness. Kristof himself, for his own reasons. John Watson, Jack Logan, your brothers' partners, obviously. And Gregor Lestrade. Your choice?"

"Yeah. He never had kids of his own. He'd make a great dad."

"What will you do if the child is his?"

"I don't know. I'd sort of promised that I'd bring it up with him. But that was before…"

"Anthea will wish to raise the child as her own."

"Yeah. I expect Mycroft will sort everything out. When's he getting here?"

"I am to call him when Anthea goes into labour. He will fly out to join us then."

*********

"Sir, wake up."

Billy cracks open one eye. The room is dark, just a little light creeps in from the half-open door.

"What's wrong, Lucien?"

"It's Anthea, sir. She needs to get to the hospital."

Arkady had woken at the sound of Billy's voice close to his ear. He gets up quickly and starts to dress. Luce looks away.

"I will drive her and Queenie in the landrover. Luka, bring Billi." He turns to Billy. "Billi, text Mycroft to come. Do not contact anyone else, either of you. This situation is still classified."

The three men help the two women downstairs and out to the car. Luce and Arkady get them strapped in and settled into the landrover while Billy texts Mycroft with details of the Toulouse hospital they will be going to. Anthea is very calm as Arkady drives off into the damp fog.

Billy and Luce follow.


	10. Luziya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 19th 2019
> 
> Toulouse

Billy and Luce soon lose sight of Arkady's tail-lights in the fog.

Luce opens the driver's window, so that he can hear any traffic approaching. Visibility is very poor. He drives carefully,  watching for oncoming headlights, as well as tail-lights ahead.

Billy's phone rings

"Hello Mycroft. Are you on your way?"

" _Yes. I should be at the hospital in about twenty minutes. Are you and Arkady in separate vehicles?_ "

"Yes. He's driving Anthea and Queenie. I'm with Lucien. Why do you ask?"

" _His GPS signal is stationary, and has been for a few minutes. Yours is still moving slowly. Is the fog very thick on the ground where you are?_ "

"Yeah. Hang on." He leans across to Luce, who is concentrating on driving. "Lucien. Pull over and stop. Carefully. Something's up."

He swipes a character on his phone. "I'm putting you on speaker, Mycroft."

" _Very well. Constable Thompkiss, can you hear me?_ "

"Yes sir." Luce and Billy huddle together over the phone. "Good signal at the moment."

" _Good. Major Yegorov's GPS signal has been stationary for some time. This could be due to a number of causes, but the most likely one is that the vehicle he is in it stationary. Have either of you received a communication from him in the last five minutes or so? Or from Anthea or Queenie?_ "

"No, Mycroft. Nothing. " Billy starts to worry. "Have you got co-ordinates? Can you direct us to where his signal's coming from?"

" _Yes. He is west of you, about half a mile._ "

Luce grits his teeth. "I'll need to do a U-turn. Let's hope there's nothing coming towards us."

 

*********

 

"There. Look, could be a headlight."

Billy and Luce push their way through scrubby bare bushes at the side of the road. The fog is beginning to lift, and they can see where Arkady has driven off the road. Billy thrusts his phone at Luce.

"Call Mycroft. Tell him we've found them."

He scrambles towards the landrover. He can hear Arkady speaking in Russian, a ragged, sobbing repetition.

"Пожалуйста, помогите мне. Пожалуйста, помогите мне."

Arkady is half in , half out of the car, leaning over Anthea, who is screaming and bleeding. He is trying to stem the bleeding and help her through contractions. Queenie is in the front seat of the car, crying, trying to reach the phone she has dropped.

Billy touches Arkady's shoulder. He jumps, and looks around, wild-eyed.

"Billi. Thank the gods. The baby is coming, and Anthea cannot push. There is too much blood. I do not know how to help her."

"Mycroft's on his way. He's in a helicopter."

Luce gently pushes Billy aside.

"Go and help Queenie, sir. I'll help Arkasha. I've helped at a birth before…"

 

*********

 

Billy sits beside Anthea's bed, cradling the baby very carefully in his arms. For all her difficult birth, she is perfect. A good weight, three and a half kilos, more or less exactly average. Her length is in the 95th percentile, over fifty centimetres. She will be tall, if she stays in that range. Her eyes are the slatey blue of most newborns. It will be weeks before her true eye colour is revealed. Her hair, though, is thick and white blond.

"I don't think we need a DNA test. It's obvious where that hair comes from."

Arkady leans towards Billy, smiling. He stretches out a finger and strokes the baby's cheek.

"How is her mother?"

Billy nods his head towards Anthea, who is sleeping the sleep of the exhausted.

"Ask her"

Arkady smiles

"I meant you. You have a daughter, Billi. What will happen to her?"

Billy grimaces.

"Anthea wants to live in idyllic harmony with Queenie and the baby, in a country cottage somewhere. Mycroft wants to give her to a bunch of nannies to bring up. And send her to boarding school at five… neither of those schemes includes me. I didn't want a baby, but now she's here…"

"You love her. Of course you do. She will need a mother, Billi. And a father." "

She's got both of those right here in this room."

"You will acknowledge her then? As your own?"

"Her mother will be recorded as Billie Holmes. It's a female-looking name. I'll act as her godfather, or uncle, or something. I'll see a lot of her. Wherever Mycroft hides her."

Arkady smiles.

"I would prefer to have a DNA test confirm paternity before I claim her. But I will not abandon her. And I will not abandon you."

"I cannot imagine you wanting to be a live-in father, Arkady. Not to a child who is only coincidentally yours." Mycroft has come into the room quietly. "We will need to discuss arrangements for her care."

 

*********

 

"She's a pretty thing."

Queenie rocks the baby in her arms. Billy smiles.

"Do you know what Anthea planned to call her?"

"No. She hasn't decided on a name. I wish she'd wake up."

"We need to pick something soon, or she's likely to end up with some weird Holmes-family name. Mycroft's sorting out details. Registration of the birth, all that sort of legal stuff."

"There won't be any loopholes then."

"Unless he builds them in."

Luce stands in the doorway to the room. On guard. Queenie smiles at him.

"One of her middle names should be Lucy. Or a variant. Arkady said you delivered her in the end."

"We both did." Luce smiles "Arkady is a nice name. Couldn't you give her that as a middle name?"

Billy takes the baby and settles her back in her transparent cradle.

"I thought of that. Arkady is a very masculine name. There isn't a female version, I don't think. I want something Russian, though."

"Luziya" Arkady growls from behind Luce. "It means "light". That way, she is named for both of her bodyguards."

Luce grins the biggest grin Billy has ever seen. Arkady slaps him on the shoulder.

"We will drink to her honour tonight."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Пожалуйста, помогите мне.
> 
> Pozhaluysta, pomogite mne. 
> 
> Please help me.


	11. You'll call her Luziya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 22nd 2019
> 
> Toulouse
> 
> Arkady and Billy make some decisions

"And now we come on to natal gifts…"

Billy sighs "Do we have to, Mycroft? She's not going to understand any of this for twenty years…"

"We must establish her legal rights, Bill. You surely do not want to risk her financial security. We do not want to see her on the streets because of someone's whim…"

"Like me, you mean?"

Mycroft draws in a sharp breath. He still feels guilty about Billy's history.

"Yes. She will have a home that belongs to her, and enough money to support herself. Should she need to do so."

"All right. But the cash has to be in a trust fund. She can have an allowance, but the capital needs to be tied up, or she'll spend it on ponies. Or boyfriends." He frowns. "What did you mean when you said a home that's hers?"

"I propose to put the Toulouse farmhouse in her name. It was your father's, Bill. It has not ever been part of my mother's estate. Anthea and Queenie can live there with her. It has already been adapted to take Queenie's disability into account, and there is plenty of space for guests, of which I am sure there will be many."

"What if Arkady wants her to live with him? What if I want her to live with _me_?"

Mycroft blinks. "I was under the impression you did not want a child, Bill…"

"I didn't. And if you recall, I _particularly_ didn't want to father a child for Anthea." He scowls " But since I've been forced into _both_ those situations, I want some say in what happens. Arkady should be here too."

"In that case, we should wait for Anthea to recover fully, so that she can also be involved in the discussions."

"No." Billy's voice is very flat.

"No?" Mycroft is taken aback "Why not?"

Billy smiles, tiredly.

"She is not Anthea's child, Mycroft. Anthea is a surrogate, in dodgy circumstances. Anthea stole the embryo. We don't know what Kristof's motive was in helping her. He may possibly have been under duress, possibly not. Anthea might have been in cahoots with Siger." He sighs and rubs the back of his head. "I am not happy to give her any rights over my daughter."

Mycroft walks to the door. Luce is outside, on self-imposed guard duty again.

"Lucien, could you get us some tea, please?"

Luce waits for Billy's nod before leaving to search for tea.

"Bill. I understand what you are saying. I do not believe that Anthea was involved with Siger. There was another player that we were not aware of at the time. That third person was responsible for extracting Anthea from Lausanne, and, we think, for killing Kristof and injuring Queenie."

"Who?"

"That is classified, I am afraid. Arkady knows, but he is not allowed to discuss it with you. Please do not ask him to. The person was neutralised in June. That was when we became aware of Anthea's pregnancy."

" _She stole the embryo_ , Mycroft."

"Yes. she did. But out of desire to be a mother. The child will need a full time caregiver, Bill."

"I know. But I don't trust her…"

"And you have reason not to, I know. I do not propose to leave her with sole care of your daughter, Bill. I had thought a minimal, but well-trained staff, a housekeeper and a handyman, for example, would ensure her safety."

"Spooks?"

Mycroft sighs.

"Yes. Spooks. I have a perfect couple in mind for the job. I suggest you ask Arkady to interview them. He has more knowledge of security issues than you, Bill."

"All right. I know I'm not going to be the most brilliant father. I'll need to work, anyway."

"Yes. Do you plan to live in Toulouse?"

"I don't know. I hadn't made any plans for this sort of thing. I've got to talk to Arkady."

"Very well. And you must name the child, formally, soon."

 

*********

 

Billy lies in the dark with Arkady's arms around him. They both still smell of paint, despite showering as thoroughly as two people can when distractedly sharing an old farmhouse bathroom.

"I can't live here permanently, Arkasha. I have to work. And she needs stability. We can't be dragging her around Europe."

"Stay until Christmas. That is not long, now. Make your decision in the New Year." 

"You'll be staying anyway, won't you?"

"Da. I will share the parenting with Anthea and Queenie. I have enough money saved to allow me a year or two without work. After that, we will see."

"I'll miss you when I'm away."

"And I you. But you will have Luka to keep you company in London, and you will have me waiting with a warm bed when you come to France." He grins. "You must come to France very often, Billi. I will be trapped in a house with too many women…"

Billy laughs and snuggles down.

"The nursery looks nice. We'll have to put her name down for a good school…"

Arkady smiles

"At least she has a name now."

"Yeah. Hero Luziya Violette Holmes. It's a bit of a mouthful. You'll call her Luziya, won't you?"

"Da. And you will call her Hero."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This saga will continue, but for now, everyone is in a good place for a new beginning. (Yes, even Greg). It feels like the right place to take a break and a deep breath.


End file.
